


Weird Is Good

by imwiththeunicorn (tiatodd)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 00:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21090188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiatodd/pseuds/imwiththeunicorn
Summary: Oh my god a long lost fic. I've brought it back from the ashes!! YW.





	Weird Is Good

ou draw a sharp gasp.  
  
“Hmhm, you’re so silly,” she growls, giving you a lick as her fingers curl over the edge of your cup and brush your bare breast.  
  
“You’re a tease,” you pant. Her other hand is supporting her, positioned by your head, and she drops suddenly as she puts the weight on her elbow instead. Her face, her chest are now comfortably settled on you, lips and nose drifting around your neck and generous breasts resting just below yours. Her shapely behind is well within your view and you bite your lip, dragging both your hands down her back to where you can only reach the brim of her denim skirt.  
  
Suddenly everything stops and you regret saying anything. She rocks forward, hips pressed to yours, and now looks down into your face, plump red lips framing the tip of her teasing tongue. Coldness replaces the hand she removes from under your shirt and she pushes her dark curls behind her shoulder, smirking.  
  
The word “what” waits on your lips, but before you can ask, she places her mouth to your ear and whispers, “Yeah, I kind of am a tease.”  
  
“What?” you stutter, grabbing at her as she sits up and giggles.  
  
“What, I’m bored of kissing,” she explains simply, sitting cross-legged with her back to the wall, and closes her eyes.  
  
You sit up as well, self-consciously fingering one point on your neck which tingles terribly. By now, it’s far too warm for clothes, and you want out of them. “Darcy…”  
  
“Shh,” she snaps, turning her head away and crossing her arms.  
  
“Darcy, you can’t just…do that and then deny me,” you groan, flopping backward onto her lumpy pillow with unveiled exasperation. “Do you seriously just…turn it on and off like a switch?”  
  
“Mmhm.”  
  
You sigh, flipping over and burying your face in the pillow. One hand seeks the smooth surface of Darcy’s laptop, and you find it, sitting up on your knees and opening it.  
  
“What are you doing with my laptop?” she asks tiredly.  
  
“Deviant art,” you grumble in spite, typing.  
  
You hear her shift behind you and the mattress sinks around you. She lies herself atop you and your eyes part from the screen, looking at her over your shoulder. She reaches an arm forward to close the computer. “No.”  
  
“Well are we gonna continue?”  
  
Without responding, she reaches further forward, and you can feel her boobs pressed to your upper back. You close your eyes and breathe deeply, quickly confused by a metallic jingling sound.  
  
Darcy’s weight shifts on top of you and the rhythmic jangling of a metal slinky fills the room.  
  
“Darcy? What is that?”  
  
“It’s my slinky,” she says with a tone of “well obviously.”  
  
You listen, confused, for a bit longer, and then turn underneath her, nearly bucking her off. She casts you an annoyed look but now straddles your hips, juggling a slinky up and down.  
  
_Sssk, sssk, sssk, sssk._  
  
You watch.  
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because slinkies are fun, duh.”  
  
You nod compliantly, for of course she is correct.  
  
“A slinky is more entertaining than I am?”  
  
She almost nods, but catches herself. “No, it’s just right now…I…would rather fondle a slinky than your boobs.”  
  
On impulse, you slap one of her hands and the slinky wobbles out of control. But this is nothing Darcy can’t manage, and she declares victory with a “ha, ha!” You shift under her, buck your hips a little, but the slinky continues to arch back and forth. Then, at the exact same time, you nudge her elbow and buck your hips, biting your lip at the incidental friction. The arch breaks, metal coils bending down and hitting the bareness of your stomach where your shirt has bunched up from all this play.  
  
It’s a delayed reaction but you shiver at the sensation of the cold steel on your bare skin. Darcy notices.  
  
“I know, feels good, right?” she says, rolling up the sleeve of her sweater and stretching the slinky down her wrist. “Nice and cold…”  
  
You catch a brief flicker in her expression. Her shoulders tense up, she fixes her eyes on her wrist, and her bottom lip is tucked under her teeth.  
  
“Darcy,” you ask suspiciously. “What was that?”  
  
“What was what?”  
  
You smirk, propping yourself up on one elbow and reaching for the toy. She hands it to you and you stretch out the metal coil, pondering. Taking her by the hand, you expose her wrist and place the slinky on it, stretching it out slowly. Her breath catches for just a moment, and you bite your tongue so as not to laugh out loud.  
  
“Are you getting turned on by a slinky?”  
  
“No!” she protests. “Well. It just, it feels good.”  
  
“Good like soft-kitten good, or good like _oh god more_ good?”  
  
“Shut up.” She snatches the slinky back from you, pushing you back by the shoulders. “Why don’t you tell me?”  
  
“What?”  
  
The cold coil is a shock to your neck, which is still very sensitive from your make-out. She stretches it out and the ends of it practically drip down your neck, cool and smooth, and it makes you shiver. “What was that?” she mocks.  
  
“It’s just cold,” you reason, confused at your own reaction. It did feel good.  
  
“Want me to do it some more?”  
  
You blink up at her, and then nod, and she continues. She rolls the slinky down your throat and back up to your chin, your body not registering the cold coils until all you feel is the ghost of their trace. It’s an odd sensation, and you want more of it.  
  
Deducing this desire from your eyes, Darcy smiles curiously. “Oh.” She sets the toy aside, resting her lips again on your neck. The quick transition from cool to warm makes you gasp, and as she works her affections down to your collar and pulls down the neckline of your shirt, your breathing becomes deep, and you can feel the heat of your arousal building between your legs.  
  
She notices when you squirm. “Well. _Some_one’s oversensitive.”  
  
“Ugh, it’s because you’re so damn hot,” you moan. She takes off your shirt and kisses down your stomach, kneeling between your spread legs. Her lips praise your navel, causing you to flex your stomach, and her hands slip under your back. Once your bra is off, she brings her face to your chest, placing her lips over one pink spot and coaxing it to harden with her teeth and breath. You bite your lip, squeezing your thighs around her hips.  
  
She begins to rock forward and back, and you let your head relax, closing your eyes as you rub yourself against her for yet more friction. You can hear the kiss she applies to your other nipple, and it gets you much hotter. With one hand you drag four nails up her side, scrunching up her shirt in the process, and with the other you blindly remove her glasses and toss them to the pillow behind you. There’s this one spot on the back of her neck, right at her hairline, and if you run one nail across it with enough gentleness she will mewl, so you make her.  
  
“Mmnh…” Her actions become a bit friskier, hands now all over your breasts as she shifts her hips to grind hard against your vulva. Her mouth latches to your jugular vein. You reach a hand down into her skirt, flicking your fingers quickly, and smirk at how wet she is. Though, of course, you’re sure you’re wetter.  
  
You hear a metallic jangling by your ear and groan. “Again, with the slinky? Am I…mmh…boring you again?”  
  
“No, just hang on…”  
  
The sudden cold shock of metal on your fevered collarbone is at first unpleasant, but you feel the coils expand from shoulder to shoulder, and the faint smell of the steel hits your senses. You take a deep breath and relax, and she rolls the coil down your chest, over your breasts…the sensation hits your breasts only after the slinky is on your stomach, and the tingling in your body is so tantalizing. Darcy’s hips have stopped moving. Your body feels now like it’s only on the verge of arousal, a delicate state that the next rough touch could ruin. You’re arching into the cold feel, biting your lip to concentrate. You shiver.  
  
“You like that, yeah?” She brings the slinky back up your torso, pulls it down around your neck. You can almost feel your pulse rocking you. “Hmmm. Tell me what you want.”  
  
You gulp, skin tingling from the absence of cold. “Slowly.”  
  
She complies, first laughing a soft “huh, huh” before you feel her soft lips on your jaw. When you look up you can see she’s trying hard not to touch too much of you at once, hands supporting her as she hovers over your body. Your breasts tingle with want and you arch your back up toward her, but she bends away, breath dusting over your ear. “You said slowly.”  
  
She sits up on her knees, quickly unbuttons her shirt and drops her bold red bra to the floor, large breasts exposed to your sight. Your heart pounds a little faster and you can feel the beat between your thighs. Darcy hooks her thumbs into two belt loops, showing off her red panties as she wiggles the skirt off her hips. You breathe quickly, reaching forward. You want to see what’s under those.  
  
“Hey, no, not yet.” She laces her fingers into yours, pinning your hand to the bed beside your head. Your eyes drink in her curvaceous body as it leans over you again, and her breasts brush against yours just the tiniest amount. It’s enough to send a fresh flood of arousal through you and your neck stretches out involuntarily. You dig your nails into her hand, using your other hand to pull her down into a rough kiss. Your teeth clash with hers and your breasts mash against hers, nipples rubbing against each other and creating far too much friction to bear. You can hear her kick off her skirt and one of her hands works you out of your own pants, and in a tizzy you break your hand from her grasp and wind your hands around her back, twining your legs as you flip the two of you over to the right. Her body makes contact with the wall and you open your mouth to apologize but her tongue is already in it.  
  
Now her shoulder is pressed against the hard wall and so is one of your legs, but neither of you protest to it and you even use it for leverage while your other knee presses against her groin.  
  
“Ah, ah,” she pants, mouth open. Her dark curls are splayed out on the mattress and caught in her lipstick, which you help her out with quickly. You grab her thighs and drive your knee harder against her, holding her steady as you pick up a rhythm. You straddle one of her thighs, rubbing back against it in time with your rocking. The heat and tingling makes your eyes droop and your jaw slack. Almost unable to pull yourself from the pleasure, you stop to remove Darcy’s last article of clothing, relishing in her blushing cheeks when her neat black triangle of hair is exposed to you.  
  
Before you can make a move, her hand is in your panties, finger circling your clit, slicking you up with your own juices. “Hah! Nnngh, Darcy,” you growl, falling deeper into lust. At her mercy, you fall back into your old place and one of her firm hands keeps your shoulder against the bed, the other one still pleasuring you. It is soon withdrawn and you whimper pathetically, gazing up in wanton need while your panties are slid off. She straddles your hips at first, back erect, and she looks down at you, chest heaving. Her hair is wild, eyes lust-glazed, her lips are parted with heated breathing. She nearly falls on top of you, stopping short within inches of hitting you, and your naked bodies rub together while she kisses you.  
  
Your legs tangle together awkwardly and desperately, and with a sharp gasp you both meet each other’s most intimate spot. You’re both soaking, dripping wet and almost painfully hot. As she begins to slide into a halting rhythm, you gape, and everything slows down to a reverent pace. You can’t believe how amazing this feels and you’re so desperate to see if it can feel even better, and when you rub yourself against her it _does_ and you nearly cry out. You almost can’t breathe due to Darcy’s chest weighing on yours but that just intensifies the sensations. You can feel her trying to bite your neck, but this proves to be difficult even as she fails to hold back her moans and whines.  
  
Your arms are wrapped around her tightly and all your energy focuses on still intensifying all the pleasure down there. Soon your ears pick up on the lewd, wet sounds, and you moan aloud. You’re so close. _So_ close.  
  
A particularly shrill whine signifies that your partner is losing the last of her control. You can feel the muscles tighten in her stomach and her legs, and that spurs the same reaction in your own body. Your jaw slackens and you arch your back, pushing your hips as hard against hers as they will go and she rocks herself even faster, both of you do, both of you grow louder and both of you breathe harder and _”ah, ah! Ah!”_ Her cries of pleasure are what finally put you over the edge, and you clench _deliciously,_ crying out in climax.  
  
She lets loose a crackling groan as she comes immediately after you, and you try to push your orgasm as far as it will go before you feel yourself coming down from it.  
  
Your head feels considerably light and the rest of you feels heavy, especially after Darcy lets go of every muscle and collapses on you. You receive a faceful of her hair and pluck it away, weaving your hands into her bushy locks.  
  
“Let’s have sex all the time, okay.”  
  
“Yeah the fuck right,” you hear. “You _threw_ me into the fucking wall. I bruise.”  
  
“Whatever,” you pant. “You get turned on by a slinky.”  
  
“Hey, I wasn’t the only one. _You_ practically begged me to keep going with that thing.”  
  
You let the argument drop, heaving a sigh. “Well whatever. That was the fucking best sex we have ever had.”  
  
“Amen to that.”


End file.
